Ah, Bianca. So cool. So objective. So non-judgmental. “When you can, make a U-turn and take the first road to the right,” the voice says, recalibrating the route after the driver messed up. GPS’s have come a long way. If only she would emote sometimes and say something like, “Good job,” or, “Really? You’re going to eat that salad with your hands? Again?” or “Don’t forget to take the garbage out of the car.” Still, one can only guess how many marriages she has saved.
Most original. Most fun. Most memorable. The Scrap Exchange on Franklin St., in Durham. It’s a huge, un-airconditioned, jammed-packed warehouse of barrels, shelves and stacks of materials just waiting for a second and third use: shoe parts, plastic trays, single eye lens, sheet music, cardboard tubes, vintage patterns, wheels on casters, bubble wrap, artificial flowers, black strap rings, corks, bottle caps and beads. The front counter is a slab of wood on a stack of heart monitors although at first glance they look like microwaves. Everything’s cheap. Everyone’s in there to have fun and do something cool with what they buy. And the place is a nonprofit organization. It’s the coolest thing I’ve seen since Construction Junction in Pittsburgh, which offers larger items but under the same circumstances. Savannah? Are you listening?